


Incentive

by Oft



Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Uprising
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oft/pseuds/Oft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tesler walks in on things he'd rather not have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tesler stood a few feet from his command chair, scowling that it was yet again in use by someone he wanted out of his hair. But the worst part was that Pavel, bootlicker that he was, was kneeling, obviously following a very specific order, and Dyson’s hand had made sure Pavel was following every letter of it by keeping him bowed between Dyson’s thighs. 

‘This is the most _useful_ your sycophantic little thug has been this entire trip. It’s nice to know his mouth is better off for uses other than talking.’ Dyson didn’t bother even turning in Tesler’s direction. The general merely clenched his jaw and fists even tighter. Pavel started to lift his head with an undignified noise, but Dyson’s fingers tightened.

‘One more word from you, and I will be more than happy to have you put your mouth around my _other_ baton.’ And the emphasis on his words were followed by Dyson activating the blade from the baton against his thigh, making sure the edge was close enough to shear the barest voxel from Pavel’s ear. 

Pavel sucked harder, to Dyson’s delight.


	2. Chapter 2

10 microcycles later, and Tesler was horrified at how easily Dyson had retrained his lieutenant to perfom the most obscene tasks. In holding a small conference on the bridge of his ship, once immediate business was concluded, all Dyson had to do was snap his fingers, and Pavel was on his knees in front of him, previous orders disregarded and working hard at relieving Dyson’s hard rod through derezzing fabric. He had even overheard Dyson relaying a few less than pleasant sentiments as he worked over Pavel’s oral capacity. ‘I don’t need to see your face to fuck it’ being the most recent one that refused to purge itself from his memory cycles. He had even dared to bother fishing for Paige’s opinion about the disturbing turn of events, but all she had to offer on it was a smug hint of smile and comment on how she saw nothing out of sorts regarding the whole affair. He suspected that she was more than pleased at having Pavel occupied with something other than sabotaging her functions for once. He honestly could have cared less what Pavel had wrapped his mouth around, but for some reason, the fact that it was Dyson glitched his circuits.

His last shred of tolerance was hit when he had passed by one of the desk alcoves, and hearing Dyson speak just as he passed by. He hadn’t caught the words, but it was abruptly followed by the mixed groans of *both* of his lieutenants. He stalled in his tracks, debating whether to say SOMETHING about the absconding of his programs. Two steps back, and he could see Dyson leaning back in the chair, he assumed Pavel was in his newly accustomed position between Dyson’s knees, but was surprised to see Paige just from the waist up over the data input panel between them and him. It was obvious she was . . in charge of Pavel’s other side, holding Pavel in place and thrusting her hips forward. Her rhythmic movements came in time with her groans, and occasionally it was punctuated with pained interruptions from Pavel.

‘You know I’ve fucked Tron with this. The ACTUAL Tron, not your half-coded renegade,’ Dyson relayed as he guided Pavel's oral direction in quicker succession; Dyson’s abrupt exchange coincided with Paige’s hard staccatto motions stuttering to a halt, brightening ciruits and heady moans from her thrown back head accompanying an overwhelming display of overload. Tesler choked back a growl, and Dyson cocked his head just a little in his direction, the smug grin gracing his lips, betraying that he was well aware of the general’s presence without taking his approving gaze off the two programs before him. Tesler just turned and stormed off, plotting something- _ANYTHING_ \- to drive Dyson out of his city and back to Clu.


End file.
